


Pirate

by majorshipper



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Roleplay, Roughness, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:18:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorshipper/pseuds/majorshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma has a very important question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Collapsing face-first onto the bed, Emma lets out a content groan and relaxes, at least, as much as she can with her hands still tied behind her. She can hardly feel her fingers, but that’s okay, because that orgasm had been pretty damn mind-blowing, and it all evens out in the end.

Behind her, Killian chuckles and she feels his teeth on the knot, loosening it so he can wriggle his fingers between the ropes to fee her.

Even completely sated, boneless and exhausted, his hot breath on her lower back makes her shiver just a little, and he chuckles, tossing the rope aside before he settles next to her and draws her up against her chest.

“So I take it from your cries that you enjoyed that?” He asks, kissing the top of her head in a manner than can only be described as _sweet_. Once upon a time, Emma would have loathed that kind of thing, but here, with him, it feels nothing but wonderful, warm and cozy.

“Oh, yeah, I think I did. At least as much as you did.”

He laughs, a warm rumble.

“I think we both enjoyed it quite a bit. You’ve got…quite the imagination.”

The compliment settles in her chest nicely, and she can’t help the happiness she feels. Oh, he’s had some wonderful ideas himself and they’re far enough into the relationship to try new things, to be willing to experiment a little. Sometimes it feels like she’s the only one getting to voice her fantasies, but it’s after times like this when she realizes it doesn’t matter, because he enjoys it as much as she does.

“You have no idea, buddy,” she says, and realizes her mistake about the same time that his arm tightens around her waist, pulling her further onto his chest.

“Oh?” He asks breathily, and tilts her chin up with his hand. “What else lurks in that beautiful head of yours, then?”

On a normal day, Emma would shake her head, turn away, issue a quick wouldn’t you like to know, and that would be that.

Today is not a normal day, and her filters aren’t exactly working when she instead blurts out, “have you ever role played?”

Both his eyebrows go up in amusement and he grins.

“I don’t know what that even means, love.”

Groaning, she realizes there’s no escaping it now. She has to see this through to the very end. Already, she tries to arrange the words in her head, a way to put it more delicate than what she really imagines. Leaning up, she scoots forward more so she can press her head against the pillow, meeting him face-on, as much as it will make things awkward later.

“It’s where you pretend to be something you’re not. In bed.”

His eyes twinkle mischievously, and he furrows his brow innocently, a distinct combination that doesn’t fool her at all.

“Like…a teapot? Or an animal?”

For a long moment all she can do is stare at him, trying (and failing) to process what on _earth_ made him think _that_. Her eyes widen as she considers the fact that he just mentioned _animals_ in regards to sex, and quickly wishes for brain bleach.

“ _No_. Some _one_ in bed. Someone you’re not. Like a cop, or a nurse.”

He grins widely. “Oh, but we’ve already done that, darling, remember when you handcuffed me and did that _wonderful_ thing with your tongue?”

“No, not like that,” she says, shaking her head dismissively. “Like, the entire time, you pretend to be somebody else, act a certain way.”

“Ah,” he says, and rolls to his side, tucking his hands under his pillow and leaning until their faces are nearly touching, sharing a secret. “And what would you like me to be for you, Emma?”

The way his voice drops, low and seductive, it does things to her, and she takes a moment to appreciate it, the way it washes over her. She savors it, and when she opens her eyes again, there’s a small smile on his lips that tells her he knows exactly what he did.

Well, he always does.

The moment of truth is upon her, and she struggles for the words, the right way to say it, because _oh god I just want you to fuck me like a whore_ is _not_ how she wants to have this conversation.

Slowly, she shrugs her shoulders. “Nothing you haven’t been before, Captain.”

It’s nearly imperceptible, the hitch in his breathing, the way his eyes darken, but she catches it and it relaxes her a little more, unwinds the tension that has settled in her shoulders even after their amazing evening.

“And what about you? Do you want to be the princess ravished by the pirate?”

Deciding that now isn’t exactly the time for subtlety, she bats her eyes and lowers her voice to the same breathy whisper he uses.

“Nothing that innocent,” she says, and his eyes widen.

“Emma,” he says, that accent only making the word sound huskier, so delicious, “are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

She shrugs again. “I don’t know, what do you think I’m asking?”

“Gods, woman, it sounds like you’re asking to be treated like something you’re very decidedly _not_.”

“That’s kind of the whole point,” she says wryly, and he sucks in a breath, lets it out with a huff.

“I guess you’re right,” he replies slowly. “But I don’t want to hurt you, Emma. And…Captain Hook. Well. He hurt people.”

“What if I don’t mind being hurt?”

He chokes down a curse, and blinks hard. “I don’t mean like that, and you know it.”

“I know, and maybe I didn’t mean it like that either.”

For a long moment, he just looks at her, something she’s come to recognize as him trying to figure her out, to puzzle out the words between what she says. It almost makes her uneasy, but she lets him do it, meets his gaze, because this is a partnership and what she’s asking for, surely it’s not _easy_.

His hand appears on her waist, pulling her towards him, and she goes with it, moving until their bodies are pressed together and his face is just inches from her own.

“Just tell me what you want, love,” he says finally, voice thrumming, fingers tracing circles on her side.

She doesn’t know what else to do, now, so she brings her hand up to cup his cheek, pressing their lips together chastely. It steadies her, and she feels marginally foolish for being ashamed. He would never judge her for this, though it might raise a few eyebrows(his, to be exact).

“I want you,” she pauses and kisses him again, dragging it out, “I want Captain Hook, I want him to fuck me,” she kisses him again, pulls away only enough to fix her eyes on his lips, brush them together when she speaks again, “like I’m just another whore.”

When she tilts her head back up to meet his gaze, his eyes are pressed shut, and for a moment she thinks she said something wrong, that this is one thing he can’t give her.

Slowly, his eyes crack open, and a grin spreads across his face.

“ _Another_?”

The tension breaks, and Emma giggles.

“Oh, please. Like you haven’t.”

“You wound me,” he says, and places his hand over his heart dramatically. She rolls her eyes.

“With the truth, maybe,” she replies, but he cuts her off with a kiss, looping his hand back around her waist to press her against him. This kiss is far from hesitant, or simple. He practically devours her, passion igniting in her bones as she runs her hand through his hair, holding him just as tight.

She’s not ashamed to admit that all this talk has left her flustered, and she can certainly feel that he’s not unaffected by her desires either. They couldn’t possibly go again, but it makes her feel better, that it’s not just some one-sided fantasy she has. The way he’s kissing her alone would be enough to reassure her, but he rocks his hips and rubs himself against her, just to punctuate it.

He finally breaks away, breathless, and presses his lips against her chin.

“If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll have,” he says, lifting his gaze to hers. “You’re going to want to remember your protective word, though.”

“ _Safe_ word, Killian. Safe word.”

“Whatever you call it.”

She laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, and he presses his face against her chest and shoulder, takes a deep breath and presses his lips softly against her chest, just above the fading bruises from his teeth from last week.

“So, when do you want to do it, then?”

Taking a shaky breath, it hits her then that this is happening; she asked and he said yes. And now they’re going to plan it. His hand draws circles on her back, comforting enough to relax any lingering worries. He would take care of her.

“I hadn’t thought about it, honestly. Not beyond the idea.”

He laughs, muffled against her skin. “So you did _think_ about it, just not that part, eh?”

“Shut it,” she says, and he laughs again.

“But in all seriousness, I could be ready this coming weekend, if you wanted it that soon.”

“This _weekend_? As in, more than one night?”

He leans back from her, enough to grin lasciviously. “Well, we’ll see. But I doubt that if Captain Hook were to have someone as… _delightful_ as you in his bed, he would be in no hurry to let you go.”

Her stomach clenches unconsciously at the thought, a variety of images flickering through her mind at the suggestion, none of them too unpleasant to consider.

“Yeah,” is all she can muster up to say in reply, and he raises an eyebrow, surely aware of what his words do to her.

“Yeah?” He prods, nuzzling at her neck.

“Yeah, this weekend is fine,” she finally says, running her fingers through his hair.

“You might need to help me wash the sheets on my bed, then,” he says, and it’s her turn to raise an eyebrow.

“You wash your sheets for all the girls that hop in your bed?”

The grin he gives her is far from amusing, sharp and just a little dark.

“Oh, it’s not for you, love.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and counts down from ten in her mind, does _not_ fixate on that at all.

“Right,” she finally wheezes out, and is greeted by a soft kiss that makes her flutter her eyes open.

“Go to sleep, Emma,” he says softly, and kisses her forehead, tucking her against him this time. “Sweet dreams,” he adds in a whisper, and she punches him in the side. He gasps and chuckles, rubbing at the spot. “Sleep, darling, not violence.”

She considers punching him again, but decides against it, instead relaxing against his body, his fingers laying nonsensical trails on her shoulder.

And yes. She does have _very_ sweet dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate 4k followers on tumblr and hopefully more! 6000 words of smut. It was originally two parts but this one was just getting TOO long so I’m splitting the smut. Sorry for the ending; it seemed like the most natural place to break it up.

The next few days are the simultaneously the worst and the best days she’s had in a while. She can’t help it, really, the fire that rushes through her every time his hand drifts down her hip. Especially when he notices and leans in close, murmuring things in her ear that have her nearly blushing and dragging him back to her bedroom.

On Thursday morning, she decides to curl her hair, not much, but just enough to make herself feel amazing and give it a soft bounce. She know how she looks with the soft waves compared to the tight ringlets she prefers, and when she comes out of the bathroom, Killian is still lazing about in bed. He curls his hand around strands when she kisses him goodbye, and before she disappears out the door he tells her he _very much_ likes her hair like that.

Friday comes as innocently as any other morning, which is to say not very innocent at all, him trying to coax her into a quick round before she has to get ready for work. Extricating herself from his arms proves difficult, but she manages it when she reminds him of their plans for that night. He pouts at her right until she disappears into the bathroom.

When she gets home from work, he’s nowhere to be found in the apartment, but there is a note on her bed, written in his simple handwriting, giving her a time and a friendly reminder to curl her hair.

She has plenty of time, she decides, and sets to taking a shower and then curling her hair. She’s a few minutes early when she wraps herself up in a long jacket, making sure it’s closed tight before she checks herself in the mirror. Everything looks perfect, though she supposes she isn’t going to be the judge of that.

She drives to the docks, because it may not be winter anymore but it’s still cool enough for bare legs outside to be uncomfortable.

Carefully making her way to the captain’s quarters, she has no qualms about the way her heels click on the deck, surely alerting him to her presence. She’s nervous, but exited, too, not to mention turned on at just the thought of whatever he has in store for her. All week he’d been tight lipped, the only hint she’d gotten when he drug the sheets in from the Jolly Roger and threw them in the washer. In fact, she had been a little worried when picking through her clothes, unsure if he wanted her properly dressed or not. She hadn’t wanted to wear anything she loved, because there was always the slim chance that he would ruin it, one way or another. Eventually she’d decided on this, and just hoped it would meet his standards.

She wonders if this is how his real girls felt, if they had heard stories about the fearsome Captain Hook, if they were nervous and excited, if they were terrified or not. If they worried about their outfit, their hair.

Probably not, she decided, finally reaching his door. Checking her watch, she realized she was still a few minutes early, but it was too late to pause or step back. She reached up and rapped on the door twice, and the sound echoed on the silent ship.

“Enter,” she heard his voice from the other side of the door, and, swallowing down her trepidation, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

Whatever she had been expecting, this was not it. The room looked exactly as it had the last time she’d been in it, everything in its place, the bed made nicely, lanterns flickering as they hung from the ceiling, the table in the center scattered with various charts and open books. The chairs that usually were arranged around the table were off to the side, stacked on top of each other, but that was the only thing different.

Killian, no, Hook, sat at the end of the table, legs splayed lazily as he wrote in another book. He didn’t bother to look up at her for a long moment, leaving Emma to fidget quietly while she waited for him to finish with whatever he was writing.

Finally, he looked up at her, and frowned.

“What are you _wearing_?” He asked, apparently disgusted with her heavy coat. Deciding that was probably her cue to slip out of it, she quickly undid the buttons and shoved it over her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

The underwear she was wearing was a nice set; bra and panties a matching pair of red and black lace that she thought looked rather spectacular on her.

Hook, however, seemed less than awed. “Am I supposed to be impressed, darling?” The endearment felt wrong with that tone, so dismissive and bored. Emma opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off before she had the chance. “Your underthings don’t interest me in the slightest. I prefer what’s beneath them,” he said with a leer, his gaze taking in her body from head to toe.

He waved his hand dismissively and looked back at his book. “You can leave them on for now. It does me no good if I won’t be able to see you.”

His eyes flickered back to her, and he let a small smirk slip across his lips. “You’re early, you know. A good trait to have, but I still have work to finish, so I’m afraid we’ll have to compromise.” The way his face lit up at the word should have been warning enough, but Emma was still thrown by his reaction to her hard work; not a comment on her hair, and the complete dismissal of her attempts to look _nice_.

“Come here,” he commanded, voice hard, brooking no disagreement. Not that she would have, of course. Trying to recover something of her attempts at seduction, she put a slight sway in her hips as she approached him. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, he snagged his arm around her waist and pulled her down into his lap, chuckling as she tried to keep her balance. “You don’t have to try those tricks on me, love,” he murmured, voice hot against her neck. “I’m already rather sold on you.”

She shivered, and his arm tightened around her hip, fingers digging into her skin as he held her tightly.

“Love it when they squirm,” he said absently, nosing aside hair, and then his lips were on her neck, finding that sweet spot between her neck and shoulder. He bit down abruptly, worrying his teeth into the skin with a small shaking motion.

She did squirm then, a cry escaping her lips before she grit her teeth shut, the movement a small attempt at getting away as the shock spiked through her, followed by the dull pain. He continued to suck and bite at the skin there, ravaging it until she felt certain it would bleed soon if he continued, already sure to leave a long-lasting mark.

“Lovely,” he murmured at last, and drew his hand back to run his fingers across the skin. She flinched at his touch, and he chuckled.

“If _that_ makes you uneasy, I’m afraid you’re going to be in for a rough night,” he said, voice darkening considerably. His fingers dug into her hip again as his eyes dropped to her neck, a thick grin twisting on his lips.

“What’s your name, sweetheart? I’ll have to call you something other than whore, won’t I?”

Even though it was exactly what she’d asked for, she felt her hackles rise at the word, rebelling at the idea of being anyone’s slut.

He didn’t miss the spark in her eyes, because he pulled her against him hard, slipping his hand down to rest on her ass, a warning. “I asked you what your name is, girl. Don’t make me ask again.”

“Emma,” she ground out, teeth pressed together tightly, mouth stretched into a barely-there grimace.

“Ah, Emma, what a lovely name. Suits you, I think. Much better than whore. And don’t be afraid to use that lovely voice of yours. I bet you scream quite prettily.” He leered and palmed her ass, helping himself to a handful as his eyes drifted down to her breasts. “But alas, I’m afraid we both must get to work. You see, I have logs to finish, and, well, you get to keep me company.”

He pointedly glanced at her lips, and nudged her off of his leg, none-to-subtly shoving her shoulder until she was on her knees in front of him. His knee nudged her cheek and she bit down the urge to say something about it, instead choosing to slip into the role she’d picked as well as she could. And she did enjoy it, the way he seemed to look through her, almost as though he didn’t care about her, the tone in his voice, the way his fingers were anything but gentle. It was thrilling, that she didn’t have to be herself. She could act however, be as dirty, as free as she wanted.

“You might want to back up a bit, Emma,” he said, all the warning she got before he scooted his chair forward, boxing her in with nowhere to go except under the table.

Well, she’d never done _this_ before.

She ran her tongue over her lips, eyes dropping to between his legs as she shuffled backwards, her body fitting snugly under the table.

He didn’t say anything, but the desire in his eyes was more than enough for her. Reaching forward, she ran her hand across his thigh, drawing it up until she was pressing against his cock, squeezing gently. A low sound rumbled in his throat, and she quickly helped herself to the laces of his pants. Dipping her hand inside, she wrapped her fingers around his cock and pulled him out. He was satisfyingly half-hard, a comfortable weight in her hand.

But that wasn’t what he wanted, and they both knew it as his fingers twisted in her curls, pulling her head forward.

“Be a dear and open up, love,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving her face as she licked her lips and opened her mouth. She fluttered her eyelids and eased forward, flicking her tongue against him.

He barely moved, eyes flickering lightly before he none-too-gently pressed forward into her mouth, not even bothering to give her a moment to adjust. Emma's hands instinctively came up to his thighs before she remembered that she was supposed to be a pro at this and that trying to back away now would be giving up.

His lips parted in a low groan as he hit the back of her throat and started to rock his hips, holding her head tight against him. It felt suffocating and she could already feel her heart starting to beat faster, thrumming under her skin. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, the rough way he tugged at her hair and forced himself into her, regardless of the way she gagged around him. He pulled her off of him, looking down with hooded eyes as he yanked her hair back.

"Mmmm," he murmured, absently twisting his thumb around to brush her lips. "That mouth was made for fucking, sweetheart. But I’m afraid I can’t get to that just yet.” His eyes flickered to his desk, and then his attention was gone from her, hand disappearing from her head as he reached for something she couldn’t see.

“Just stay there, Emma. Keep me ready, eh? Might even be a good idea to get yourself ready too, in fact,” he added absently, scooting forward in his chair.

Apparently that was her cue, because his leg pressed against her and he was ignoring her again.

Well, she’d wanted to feel used, and god, did she feel it as she closed her lips back around him, working her tongue over him lightly. How was she even supposed to do this? She loved sucking his cock, she honestly did, but usually there was an end goal in mind, not just sitting here like a cock sleeve, keeping him hard and hot in her mouth.

It was okay for a few minutes, but then her back started to protest, knees pressing hard against the wood uncomfortably. She had no way of telling the time or how long she’d been here, and the only way to entertain herself was to alternate between sucking and licking, bobbing her head lightly when that got tiring. He was writing in his little book again; there was the scratching of his pen behind her head and she could hear the page turn occasionally, but he said nothing.

Eventually, she decided to simply amuse herself with his body, to actually put some effort into what she was doing. He certainly couldn’t mind.

Hollowing out her cheeks, she began to suck in earnest, rubbing her tongue along the bottom of him as she bobbed her head. Nearly pulling completely off of him, she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, paying it special attention like she knew he liked. It felt wonderful, to do something, to suck his cock like she was desperate for it. And she was.

All too abruptly, the chair scraped back and he yanked her away from him, forcing her head back painfully.

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was hard and cold and suddenly she realized that perhaps she shouldn’t have been so sure he wouldn’t mind.

Still, she lifts her chin as much as she could (which wasn’t much, with the way she was wedged between him and the table, her head already thrown back) and looked him in the eye.

“I was sucking your cock, _captain_. Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

He growls, and practically shooting out of his chair, still holding her hair tight as he drags her up just enough to shove her back on the table. Leaning in, he flattens her on her back and slides his hand around to her neck, pressing just hard enough to be uncomfortable. Something hard dug into her back, and she suspected it was probably his book, though it was increasingly difficult to tell with his hand on her throat, breath hot on her face.

“No, it is _not_ why you’re here, darling. You’re here to do as I fucking say,” he growls, pressing her harder into the wood. “You’re here for my pleasure, and if I say that’s sitting there with my cock in your mouth, then that’s what it is. If I want to come, trust me, it won’t be in your mouth, sweetheart. It’ll be that cunt, and I’ll be fucking you so hard you’ll be _screaming_. So make no mistake,” he says, enunciating each word through gritted teeth, “when I fuck you, and I will fuck you, it will be dirty and rough and hard, just like you whores seem to like. But until then, you can do exactly as I say, whether that’s to keep me hard or bend over right here. You will _not_ enjoy it if I have to exert my control here, love, but I paid for you and I damn well intend to have you how I please.”

It all hits her like a rush, his face scrunched up in anger, fingers pressing tightly into her skin, his words burning in her ears as she grips the desk under her. And fuck her, but she’s turned on by it all, by his threats and promises and ink-stained fingers wrapped around her neck.                        

“And,” he leaned in closer, close enough to kiss her, his eyes pointedly flickering across her body, a mix of lust and anger clashing in his eyes, “if you _ever_ take that disrespectful tone with me again, I promise you _will_ regret it. Is that clear?”

She nodded, and he pulled away, releasing her neck and instead reaching for her arm to pull her back down. Pushing her to her knees again, he curled his hand back in her hair and yanked her head back so he could look at her face.

“Now, since you’ve effectively distracted me from my work, I suppose you’re ready to move on. Open up, and then don’t move.”

God, he was going to fuck her face. Shifting enough to subtly rub her thighs together, she took a deep breath and opened her mouth, blinking up at him through her lashes. She brought her hands up to press against his thighs, but he batted them away with his hook.

“Ah, ah love, I said not to move. Don’t test me this soon,” he murmured, tugging her forward until her mouth closed around his cock and he sighed heavily, working himself into her until he was pushing against her throat. He didn’t stop there, rocking back and forth several times before abruptly wrenching her forward, hard enough to make her eyes water from the pulling at her scalp and then because she was choking on him, thick cock buried deep in her throat.

She nearly pushed him off, fingers pulled tight into fists, but then he pulled her off, thrusting lightly for a moment while she caught her breath. It wasn’t long before he was pushing back in, just as deep, but he didn’t stay, fucking in and out of her mouth harshly. She tried to press her tongue against him, but every time he just shoved himself down her throat and stayed there, refusing to move until she whimpered around him and he groaned, pulling away just so he could keep fucking her.

He was more vocal than she was used to, and rougher, lingering just a little bit longer than he would normally. But it was delicious, and she could feel how hard he was compared to when she’d first taken him out, knowing that was her who’d done that to him. His voice was rougher too, something she’d only heard a few times before during sex, every time accompanied by some of the best sex she’d ever had, bruises littering her body and a pleasant tingling between her legs lingering after each encounter.

Tears burned in her eyes, surely muddying her makeup, but she couldn't be bothered to care. It felt like she was drowning in him, the taste, familiar and salty, the smell, sex and leather, the feel of him making it hard to even breathe, all of it overwhelming her in a hazy mix. Her jaw was beginning to feel the steady ache as he fucked her, going slow and then fast, gentle and then so rough she couldn't stop choking around him as he pulled her hair and muttered filth about her mouth. It hurt, but must of all, it made her _ache_ for him to simply press her against the nearest solid surface, shove aside her soaked barely-there underwear, and _fuck_ her, good and proper. She knew, though, he had his own plans, and they likely didn't involve her quick and dirty train of thought.

As though he could read her mind, he pulled her forward one last time, forcing himself down her throat. She forced herself to swallow hard a couple times, the lack of air quickly affecting her as she heard him groan, long and low before finally, finally pulling her off of him.

His eyes were dark and lust-clouded, bottom lip red from his habitual lip biting. She wanted to suck it into her mouth, nip and lick, lavish attention on him before moving to his jaw, and then his neck, burning her lips on his scruff one inch at a time.

But she couldn't, and so she stayed where she was, hands on her thighs, sucking in gulps of air as her mind cleared marginally.

"Fuck," he finally murmured after a long moment. "Next time I'll have to try that with you on your back. I bet that pretty throat looks amazing with me down it."

She blinks and swallows hard; for him to mention it it's surely already decided in his mind and she has no doubt she'll be leaving him without knowing exactly how it will feel. His eyes follow the movement carefully, fingers playing circles against her scalp.

"Up," he eventually said, dropping his hand away from her. "Lean against the desk, facing me."

Emma clenched her fists and slowly rose, unsure of what he was planning and unsteady because of it. It took one small step for her ass to bump against the wood, and she stilled, leaning back on her palms. She felt exposed and desperate and he was…not doing anything.

For one split second, Hook blinked, and his façade flickered.

“Emma,” he whispered softly, standing perfectly still. His hand was clenched by his side, lips barely moving as he spoke. “Are you sure, love?”

And whatever anxiousness, whatever apprehension she’d been feeling, just like that, it was gone. This was _Killian_ , for heaven’s sake. And he was giving her exactly what she wanted.

To prove her point, instead of responding, she raised her hand to her chest, brushing her bra and then stomach on her way down, until her hand was between her legs, pushing aside her underwear to slip the tips of her fingers against herself. His gaze never wavered from hers, though she saw the spark of confusion in his eyes as she finally touched bare skin.

Slippery and aching, she had to bite her lip at the sensations, and instead dipped into her wetness, coating her fingers with a soft sigh. He shuddered slightly, just enough for her to notice, and she grinned, drawing her fingers away.

Pushing off of the desk with her free hand, she stepped forward and brought her hand up to his face, slowly dragging her fingers across his lips, leaving a trail of wetness in her wake.

“Use me, Captain,” she finally murmured, and his eyes flickered shut with a groan, tongue darting out to lick his lips clean, just barely catching the tips of her fingers as she retreated. Slowly, he opened his eyes. His tongue slipped out, brushing his lips one last time before he let out a low growl.

“Very well then, Emma.” He gestured at her. “Turn around, and bend over. Put your hands on the desk and don’t move.”

She did as he asked, perhaps arching her back a little more than strictly required. It made her ass look good, though, and she knew it. Surprisingly, though, she didn’t feel him behind her. There was shuffling, the sound of him moving around, and then he set something down on the desk next to her.

A hand cupped her ass briefly before she felt the cool metal of his hook slipping beneath her underwear and tugging. The point easily tore through the dainty lace, and then she was exposed. His fingers brushed her core as he pulled away the scraps, and she shivered.

“Oh, love, if that’s enough to get you quaking, just wait.”

She twisted her head to look, curious as to what he was doing when his touch disappeared, but she was startled by a rough smack to her ass, the stinging sensation making her yelp and then whimper as he rubbed at the red skin.

“I do recall telling you not to move, and warning you that you would not want to disobey me. Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” she replied, only to be met with another smack, the sound loud in the room. She whimpered, and he drug the curve of his hook across her ass.

“Yes _what_?”

Part of her wanted to be spanked again; it was something they didn’t indulge in often, but times like these, when she felt so utterly at his mercy, it only made her wetter. She waited just a little too long, contemplating the sting, because there was another, followed by two more in quick succession.

“Don’t make me ask again, whore. I want you to know what you should be screaming out tonight.” His breath was warm against her back as he leaned over her, and she could feel her legs shaking.

“Yes, captain,” she murmured quietly, but it wasn’t enough for him.

“Louder,” he demanded, landing another blow to her already-hot ass. It was burning now, and she was sure she had a handprint by now.

“Yes, captain,” she said again, voice rising towards the end as he spanked her again.

“Louder! I want the whole fucking town to hear you screaming for me.”

She whimpered, thinking about how easily sound carried over the water and how much she desperately _wanted_ him, _needed_ him to do more than just fuck her face and spank her. It felt like her entire body just ached to be filled up, fucked good and hard.

“Yes, captain!”

He chuckled, then, apparently satisfied. “That’s it, darling. You sound good and hoarse from my cock, exactly how I like it. Now…” he trailed off, pulling her hair off her back and putting it to the side, over one shoulder. “I love your cunt, you know. It looks wonderfully inviting. But I think you need to be _used_ , and I hate having to waste my time. That’s why I love this world.”

His hand disappeared from her back, only for her to startle a bit at the sensation of liquid being poured over her ass, dripping down her crack and between her legs.

Instantly, she could feel her body heating up, her cheeks going red as he began to rub the liquid over her, fingers inching closer and closer to his apparent target.

This was something else they’d done before, but it always took a while of prep before he could fit, and he’d just said he didn’t like wasting time. Something prodded at her hole, and she tried to relax, to forget about the hot blush spreading across her body.

“Ah, I see even the occasional whore blushes at the thought of being buggered.” He chuckled, and she shivered at the invasion of something slipping inside of her. At first she thought it was his finger, but it was smoother and soon far wider than a finger, spreading her open fast. She could feel herself breathing harder, trying to force herself to allow it in.

She was starting to suspect she knew what it was, but was determined not to say anything and give away her lack of knowledge.

Just as the stretch was becoming too much, he began to withdraw, nearly until she was empty again, before thrusting it back. He didn’t waste his time, rocking it in and out of her until the burn started to fade and she could hear herself moaning with every thrust, meeting the sensation with her hips. It felt like whatever it was went on forever, because every time she could feel it filling her up a little more and stretching her out just a little more.

Finally, without any warning, the thickness tapered off and abruptly the plug was buried inside of her. The pressure was intense; it felt like every inch of her skin was tingling with sensation, and she felt absolutely full. The weight and thickness pressed down on her, and she heaved in a deep breath.

“Gods above, you look irresistible filled up like that,” Hook murmured from behind her, hand smoothing over her ass. Abruptly, he spanked her, hard, and she cried out, the movement jolting the plug inside of her and sending ripples of pleasure up her spine as the heat bloomed across her ass.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, and he laughed at that, his body heat abruptly disappearing from behind her. She could see him now as he walked around the table, cock proudly standing out from his pants, wetness covering the head. Instinctively, she moved forward, reaching for him with her mouth. He tasted so good like this, she forgot all about not moving until his hand was in her hair, halting her movement.

“It’s like you don’t even learn,” he muttered, holding her away from him. He yanked at her hair, pulling her head and shoulders off the table. “I. Said. Don’t. Move.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot-“

He cut her off with another yank, her words turning into a sharp whine as he pulled at her hair and leaned in close, facing her.

“Don’t talk. Your mouth is far better for fucking than talking.”

She nodded, the movement pulling at her hair but she could care less. She was practically delirious from the plug and the spanking, surely dripping all over his desk and maybe even the floor. It felt so pointless to resist, and she didn’t _want to_. She wanted to do whatever he said, would get off on whatever pleasured him. It was a feeling she didn’t want to lose.

Without releasing her hair, he pulled her up, off the table, until she was standing. The plug shifted inside of her, and she whimpered, barely even registering her labored breathing as he pulled her towards the bed, each step sending more waves of pleasure across her skin. She felt ready to explode and he hadn’t even begun to fuck her.

He shoved, and she landed on the bed, the backs of her knees buckling.

“Take that off,” he waved at her bra, and she dumbly complied, reaching behind her to undo the hooks and then toss it aside. Then she was bare, all that was left were the heels, something he didn’t seem inclined to have her remove.

He hummed in approval, running his hand down her chest, tweaking a nipple just enough to make her gasp, her body tighten and shift the plug. She was infinitely aware of every inch of skin and where he was touching her. He traced the tip of his hook in a circle, lightly catching the other nipple on its point. It was a sharp reminder that he wasn’t doing this for her pleasure, and it brought her out of her haze a bit.

“Lay down on your back, with your head facing this way, and spread your legs.” She complied, the position awkward on the small bed, but she made it work. He pulled her towards him until her head was on the very edge, and his cock was right in front of her face.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Open up. I want you see you filled up from both ends.” Almost absentmindedly, as he guided himself into her mouth, he added, “And you can touch yourself, but no coming.”

She barely had a chance to suck in a breath before he was thrusting deep, fucking her throat with each movement. Her head swam as she began to touch herself, light flickers to her clit that did absolutely nothing to take the edge off the all-consuming ache she experienced.

In fact, she was hardly aware of what he was doing until she felt his hand on her throat, pressing down as he fucked deep and deeper. She was choking, he was too long, too thick, and she could feel her gag reflex rising up. But he didn’t seem to care, stroking her throat with his hand as he rutted against her. The sound of his grunts filled the air and she struggled to swallow, barely gasping in enough air to stay conscious when he pulled out, only to plunge in deep again, fucking her throat raw. His balls slapped against her face and she could feel herself starting to drift again before he reached for her breast, roughly grabbing it and using it as a handhold to leverage himself even further against her.

It was like before, but even more intense, and she knew he wasn’t going to come like this, despite the fact that he began to speed up, thrusts powerful and rocking her jaw with every movement. Her whole body moved with each thrust, throwing off her fingers and shifting the plug inside of her. She tried to whimper or cry out, but she couldn’t do anything except swallow around him helplessly.

Her eyes burned and her face was wet, mascara surely running into wet lines from the tears that slipped out every time she began to choke.

Without warning, she could feel him pulse in her mouth, grunts turning to cries as he began to come. She struggled desperately to swallow and not choke on him, but he was relentless, forcing himself down her throat and furiously stroking her throat until he was finished.

It wasn’t right, he was supposed to _fuck her_ , and she whimpered quietly as he pulled out. She blinked up at him, fully aware of how she must look, smeared makeup, a small bit of his come dripping out of the side of her mouth.

He grinned, the sharp glint in his eyes telling her that no, he wasn’t done yet. She let her eyes flutter shut when his hand came up to rub her cheek, thumb brushing her lips.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll still be fucking you proper. But watching the way you squirm with my cock down your throat, that was a treat I couldn’t resist.”

She opened her eyes, only to find his eyes burning into her, deep blue eclipsed by black.

She took a deep breath and let it out, meeting his gaze.

She was ready.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grand finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to all the amazing reviewers and comments I’ve gotten, especially on FFN. Without them this fic probably would have stayed a WIP.

It was a long time before either of them moved. At least, it felt like a long time to Emma as she laid there, panting and trying to recover the ability to speak. Hook was watching her like a hawk, taking in every inch of her very exposed skin. Her hand was still between her legs, but she had stilled when he did. She wasn’t sure if he would have allowed her to continue, but she wasn’t keen on finding out. Besides, she didn’t want her own fingers. She wanted much, much more.

Finally, he moved, reaching for the buttons of his vest. He didn’t say a work as he slowly stripped, more and more skin being revealed as he peeled his shirt off. The expanse of bare skin was like catnip, and it was something she’d always loved on him; shirt gone, pants slung low on his hips. His cock was slowly softening, and she resisted the urge to pout. She knew what she’d asked for, to be used for his pleasure, but she hadn’t exactly anticipated being used more than once.

He eyed her carefully, following her gaze to between his legs.

“Don’t worry, love, by the time you’re ready for me, I’ll be plenty ready as well.” He winked, even seemed a bit happy. It reminded her more of when they’d first met, his obnoxious (at the time) positivity about their quest up the beanstalk.

It wasn’t too surprising; usually orgasms made him into a monster snuggler. He certainly wasn’t going to break character and snuggle her, so this was probably the best she was going to get. Slowly, she sat up, and was abruptly reminded of the plug still inside her ass. Her breathing hitched, which he must have noticed because he chuckled as he strode back to his desk. She wasn’t exactly sure how she’d _forgotten_ it, but maybe she’d gotten accustomed to it.

Still, she certainly felt it as she slipped off the bed and onto her feet. Her legs shook despite her best efforts to reign them in, and she could feel how off she felt.

“What would you like me to do until then, captain?” What she’d intended as seductive came out an octave higher and was accompanied by a stutter as she began to walk and felt it shift even more. God, she felt even hornier than before, if that was possible. It rubbed against her in all the right places and was a pleasant weight filling her up.

He leaned back against his desk and rubbed at his scruff. He looked good enough to eat, but she stayed where she was, aside from some brief swaying. The urge to _move_ to do anything to help ease the ache inside of her was strong, but she was stronger. He appraised her carefully, eyes roving, and she tried to keep from covering herself under his gaze. Finally, he hummed slightly and motioned for her to come towards him.

As soon as she was close enough, he snatched her by the waist, pulling her into him until she was pressed against his chest, face to face.

He smirked, inches away from her face, and leaned even closer, close enough to kiss her. His nose brushed hers, and she inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering closed. He smelled like sex; sweat and heat and leather and all good things.

She would bet he probably tasted like it too, and she was ready to find out when suddenly he moved, spinning her around and switching their positions so she was pinned against the desk and he was pressing against her back.

“Now, now, love. I know where those lips have been.” His breath was warm on her shoulder, and she fought the urge to push back against him and take control. It felt so good, though, like this, for him to hold her on the edge, one step away from too much and yet so close to just right.

He ran his hand along her side, rings cool on her skin as he followed the curve of her hip and then came back up again, cupping a breast gently. His hips pressed into her ass and she moaned; the plug inside of her making her practically quake in his arms.

“You look so vulnerable,” he mused, voice low and intimate. “So beautiful. Standing here in the nude, body shaking, aching for me to fill you up.” His nose brushed along her neck, and she nearly melted, a shudder rippling through her as a whimper slipped past her lips.

God, she did ache for him. Ached for him to fuck her, to fill her up and make her scream his name.

“Bend over,” he finally said, pulling his hand away from her. She obliged as best as she could, trapped between him and the hard wood. Her ass was exposed like this, probably presenting him quite the picture as she struggled to breathe normally. The room was hot and her skin was on fire, inside and out.

Cold metal ran across the curve of her ass, and she groaned, bucking her hips back.

“Patience. All you girls ever want is to be fucked; rest assured that I will get there,” he said, but made no move to stop her. She could feel him leaning back and then there was something being poured on her ass again, slipping down between her cheeks.

She was aware of what he was doing an instant before he moved, fingers wrapping around the base of the plug. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he began to pull it out, every second making her feel more and more empty. It burned, the stretch; she’d gotten used to it being inside of her, filling her up. Now it was coming out.

She was hardly aware of _herself_ , the small sounds slipping past her lips, until he stopped, just the very tip left inside of her. Then, to her surprise, he pushed, filling her up again in one smooth move. A gasp escaped her, the whoosh of air fitting considering how abruptly she was full again.

He began to repeat the process, faster this time, until he was fucking her ass on the plug and she was rutting back against him, craving the pleasure. She hardly felt the stretch, could only feel the delicious friction inside of her and the weight of being full.

There was sound, and dimly she realized he was speaking to her.

“..to be good and ready. I want to be able to claim every part of you. Every. Last. Inch.” He punctuated his words with thrusts that left her gasping for air and fingers scrabbling on the wood. It felt so good, almost _too_ good, pleasure so intense she could hardly breathe. His chuckle was far away, distant and floaty. “Imagine how my cock will feel, love. This is just a pale imitation.”

She groaned, clit throbbing with need, the combination of his words and actions making her desperate. And she’d thought she was desperate before, but it was nothing. Nothing compared to the utter need that consumed her, and she desperately rocked her hips back against him, thrusting them in little circles until she could feel his half-hard cock slipping against her ass.

“Gods, you’re so greedy. I bet that cunt’s just hungry for me. Shall we find out?”

His hand disappeared from her ass, moving instead between her legs until she could feel hard heat against her, the head of his cock just nudging her clit with every thrust. He was teasing her, and she nearly screamed, wanted to bang her fists on the table and sink down on him. There was a grunt and she felt the brush of his hand again seconds before his cock caught on her cunt, nudging her open and then finally, blessedly _finally_ , sinking into her.

She nearly came then and there, her whole body shuddering as he sheathed himself in her to the hilt in one thrust. It wasn’t difficult; she was sopping wet and needy as a cat in heat, and she knew it. He knew it. He especially knew it now that he could feel exactly how wet and welcoming she was.

The friction burned inside of her as he began to move, slow deep thrusts that sparked every little corner of her body and made her ready to cry. She was whimpering constantly, moaning and uttering words she couldn’t understand, probably a few that were not exactly in keeping with their little role playing, but she didn’t care, and apparently, neither did he, because he made no move to correct her, just kept fucking her with those long strokes.

His hand and hook went to her hips, pulling her up more and onto her elbows. The angle changed abruptly and she cried out, feeling even fuller now and so very close as each movement of his cock brushed against that spot inside of her.

“Bloody fuck,” he cursed loudly, fucking into her harder and stilling with his cock buried in her. “That cunt feels amazing, love. So tight and warm. And you feel so good full like this. Do you love getting fucked like this, every part of you filled up?”

“Fuck,” she said hoarsely, and he pulled her back against him roughly, hand wrapping around her throat to hold her against his chest.

“That’s not an answer,” he murmured, lips touching her neck, the brush of air as he exhaled sending goosebumps down her spine. She groaned and tried to press against him with her hips, but he was utterly still.

“Yes, god, yes, is that what you want to hear? I love getting fucked like this, of fucking course I do, and you goddamn know it!”

It had to have been what he wanted to hear, because he moved instantly, his mouth coming down on her shoulder, his moan lost in her skin as he kissed and sucked at her skin, marking her. His hips began to move again as he released her and shoved her back against the table. Her shoulder throbbed and she cried out, bracing herself against the table with her arms. The table jolted with every thrust, papers floating away and the few items resting on it shaking themselves off the edge. But he paid them no heed, and for that she was grateful.

Part of her was desperate for it to be over, to fall apart in a dizzyingly spectacular manner and to hold him tight, but another, larger part, wanted it to never stop, because he was right. She loved it. She’d asked for it, practically begged and suffered the embarrassment, all for this, and it was worth it. God, it was worth it. She would probably never be able to explain it, but she’d never felt this powerful before, even with him entirely in control.

It was very primal, to be wanted like this, and she felt every bit the wild animal.

Finger slipped through her tangled hair, almost caressing her, and she was ready to be jerked back, to be pulled against him, but it never came. Instead he seemed desperate to touch her, hand trailing down her back and ass, grasping at her hip. His hook was dug into the table viciously, leveraging himself against her with it. He grunted and groaned, and she moaned and cried out, an endless stream of profanity that was surely far too loud, but she couldn’t care.

He mumbled something above her, and she could feel him becoming erratic, losing his grip on her. His hand disappeared and she missed it instantly, the warmth of his palm on her skin.

She didn’t have time to wonder what he was doing because it was curving along her stomach then, fingers dipping between her legs to touch at her clit, a simple glancing touch, his fingers fumbling, but it was enough. She screamed, honest to god, and it seemed like her whole body spasmed as she came, a flood crashing down on her.

It seemed to never end; his fingers refused to leave her, even as she dimly registered him pull out. It didn’t seem right, but she couldn’t even feel her legs, much less try to figure out what he was doing. His fingers were slippery, brushing against her over-sensitive entrance, and she whimpered, barely able to lift her head, much less do anything else.

“Gods, you look magnificent when you come.” His words seemed to drift through the air, and she could practically see them float by her. Her eyes fluttered and all she wanted to do was close them and sleep suddenly, but his arms went around her, pulling her to her feet, and she could feel that it wasn’t over. His cock pressed against her back, still as hard as it had been before, and she nearly collapsed.

She knew what was next.

Despite her exhaustion, a thrum of excitement went through her, and she held it together long enough for him to lay her in the bed, surprisingly gentle, on her stomach. He followed her onto the bed after a moment, and she felt his bare legs brush hers.

He put his left arm under her hips, drawing her up, and she went with it, crawling onto her knees. The metal of his hook brushed against her opposite hip, and she hung her head, taking a deep breath. Fingers slipped against her ass, and she felt the plug move, slowly slipping out of her. She felt emptier than she could remember feeling, and a shudder passed through her.

“Shhh, love,” he murmured against her back, hand smoothing down her spine. “It’s okay.”

He drug his fingers through her wetness before sliding them against her hole, pressing two into her at once. She moaned, the sound almost involuntary, and his answering groan echoed in the cabin.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” he said, and then slipped his cock between her legs, coating himself in more of her wetness, teasing her clit as he rocked against her, and her arms shook, the tension too much.

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered, begging him, “Please, captain.”

His fingers slipped out of her, grasping at her hip hard enough o ruse, and then he was there, pressing into her. She exhaled, relaxing as best as she could, and rocked her hips back.

He sunk into her faster than she though, whimpering at how completely he filled her up. She felt empty and full at the same time, clit throbbing with need but he was so far away from it. He was more than the plug, felt like more than himself, even, and she needed him to _move_.

Thankfully, he felt the same, because he slowly pulled out of her, almost completely, just the head of his cock inside of her. She shook, desperate again but far weaker this time, and when he thrust in, she collapsed under him, her arms going out from under her and her knees sliding flat.

“Gods fucking damnation, Emma,” he grunted, all movement and raspy voice now. His hips were on either side of her ass, his cock deep inside of her, hands pressing against her back, her shoulders, anywhere he could see skin. His curses didn’t seem to slow him down as he fucked her, deep long strokes that were already erratic. “Will you remember me, love, when you sit all proper tomorrow? Will you remember how good it felt like- like this?” He stuttered as he fell against her, so deep, and she couldn’t do more than whimper out something that vaguely resembled a yes. She would feel it tomorrow, and she would _love it._

It felt as though he was in every part of her, filling her up beyond what she knew could exist. He was relentless, plunging into her and out, the sounds of him taking his pleasure from her filling the room and washing over her in a relentless wave.

His thighs shook, she registered, and he was speaking, more words that she couldn’t understand, because unbelievably, she could feel herself rising to meet him, body tensing for another orgasm. She didn’t think she could handle it, but she _would_ , she knew.

He grunted, hand slipping off of her hip, sweat slicking their bodies as he pushed harder and further, more and more until she could _feel_ him, body shaking against hers as he filled her up and came, thrusts drawing her with him.

The moment lasted for a split second, bodies shaking before he collapsed onto her.

She couldn’t even bring herself to complain. She could breathe, and right now, that was all she needed. She breathed, and relaxed. He slipped out of her and his hand brushed across her neck, pulling her hair to the side so he could kiss her neck, her shoulder.

“Are you sated, love?”

His voice was just barely above a whisper, the room suddenly very quiet and very small around them. She smiled and wriggled, trying to snuggle closer to him. He chuckled and rolled to the side, pulling her body with him until they were lying spooned against each other on the narrow bed.

“I think I am, captain,” she murmured, and he laughed, ducking his head. “It was…intense,” she added. “But in a good way.”

“Aye, I’d say it was. I was worried there at the end I might have pushed you too far.”

She shrugged and shook her head, dislodging where he had laid his head against hers. “It was perfect. I was more nervous at the start.”

It seemed strange how he could go from commanding pirate captain to her blushing boyfriend in a split second, but he did, scratching at his ear and chuckling under his breath.

“Yes, well, I couldn’t look weak in front of you. Because you certainly do make me weak, love.”

She laughed, then, her pride restored. They fell silent then, him nuzzling at the back of her neck while it suddenly seemed like her eyes had gotten very heavy.

The last thing she felt was warmth, something covering her, and then she was dreaming.


End file.
